Chapter 2
FRANKIE
You’re gonna marry the heir.
Just like that? I’ve been…sold? I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
My body buzzes with nervous energy, pent up and vicious, and I act by rote as I storm over and grab the remote from him. Then I turn off the TV and throw the remote across the room, where it hits the floor and spits batteries. He doesn’t have the grace to look a bit phased.
“What did you just say?” I demand.
My dad looks to the ceiling and crosses his work-hardened hands over his middle. “Settle down. You always said you wanted to marry young, Frankie. Here’s your chance. You’re going to be so damn rich you can honeymoon around the world if you want.”
I gape at him. Marry young. The words feel like a slap in the face. The memory of soft brown eyes and strong hands holding me tight threatens to overwhelm me on the spot. Young love. My one chance…gone but never forgotten… And now this.
The cold, hard reality of the situation has me grinding out my words. “You sold me off like cattle.”
Dad shrugs. “Why are you acting like I auctioned you off? You should be thanking me.”
“Thanking you? You’re insane. I will not be going through with this. I do not consent.”
“You think I need your consent, girl? I don’t.”
“What do you think this is, Dad, the Dark Ages? I won’t do it.”
Suddenly the door flies open. My older sister Charlie cries my name and grabs me in a bear hug from behind.
My body is stiff as stone and her excited voice makes a sharp drop as she spins me around.
She’s exactly as I remember her, tall and willowy, with a few adorable premature laugh lines around her eyes from the permanent smile she’s always sporting.
It’s not often I see my sister without that smile, in fact—though it’s fading fast as she searches my face.
God, I’d been so excited to see her after all this time, but now…I can’t think straight.
Her jaw works to one side as she picks up on the tension in the room. A frown crosses her smooth face; a typical reaction when my father is around.
“What have you done, Dad?” she says, shooting him a glare.
He doesn’t respond.
“Frankie?” Her voice is small. “What happened?”
I attempt words. Fail. Attempt again and they squeak out. “Dad sold the winery to the Bellantis. He just informed me that I’m part of the purchase contract. I’m supposed to marry the Bellanti heir.”
Charlie bursts out in an incredulous laugh, but there’s no humor in her eyes as she looks at our father over my shoulder. “Is this some kind of ‘welcome Frankie home’ joke? Because I’m not in on it. Are there hidden cameras, or—” Her voice trails off. She shifts uncomfortably.
“It’s no joke.” Dad sighs as if he’s bored with this whole thing.
“Marry the heir?” Charlie repeats, horrified. “Sold the…what are you talking about?”
I mirror my sister’s stance as we both stare down our father, but I’m numb all over. My existence feels surreal. Dad speaks, and Charlie responds. I don’t comprehend either of them.
My future was decided without any input from me.
While I was working my ass off in Italy, learning everything I possibly could in order to make my family business better, my father was plotting his exit and tossing me to the wolves.
He’s completely dismissed the effort I put into learning how to better the winery. Instead, I’ve become a commodity.
“Why would you agree to this, Dad? You always say the Bellantis are assholes!” Charlie’s shouting now, hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“Look, let’s put the winery aside for a minute and focus on the bigger issue.
You tossed your own daughter into the bill of sale like she’s not even a person.
You think Frankie’s your property or something?
There’s no way she’s going through with it! ”
Charlie’s cheeks are stained red, her eyes glassy with a fury I can’t recall ever seeing her exhibit before. Her famous smile? So far away, I can barely recall what it looks like. Dad steeples his fingers and leans back on the couch. He doesn’t look ashamed. Annoyed, maybe.
“It was either Frankie or Livvie,” he finally blurts. “And we all know Livvie would never survive a man like Dante Bellanti.”
“What?” Charlie gasps.
Dad looks away from us, out the window, maybe in an attempt to dismiss us. Maybe to avoid our seeing whatever emotion might be playing on his face. Though truthfully, he’s never been the emotional type.
As for me? I have enough emotion for all of us as I imagine my sweet, innocent baby sister being thrown to the Bellantis like chum to sharks. “This can’t be happening,” I murmur.
“I was in pretty deep, so they said I had to pay deep,” Dad goes on. “Their terms were nonnegotiable: they wanted one of you as a bride along with the vineyard. If I didn’t agree, they’d take one of you to the grave…and then they’d still get the vineyard.”
Charlie’s jaw has dropped, and both of us are shocked and silent.
Dad clears his throat as he leaves the couch long enough to pick up the remote from the floor, get the batteries back into it, and click the television back on. “You’ll meet him and it’ll be fine, Frankie. You’ll see.”
I shake my head. “But—”
“It’ll be fine,” Dad repeats. He settles into the couch, eyes back on the television.
A wave of dizziness crashes over me. Charlie’s arms are suddenly around me and she’s leading me from the room. Arm in arm, we head upstairs to my old bedroom, leaving the den and our shitty father behind.
Charlie eases me down onto the bed and smooths my hair back.
Then she sits next to me and starts rubbing my back in slow circles.
I’m breathing hard, as if I just ran around the vineyard with our yellow Lab, Penelope.
She passed away while I was in Italy, and I’d give anything to be able to wrap my arms around her soft fur now and let her tuck her sweet head under my chin.
My sisters and I used to joke that Penny was the fourth Abbott sister.
“Shh,” Charlie whispers softly. “It’ll be okay.”
“I’m not marrying into the mob.” My voice is shaking. “But…they’ll kill one of us.”
Giving voice to the words cements them somehow. This is real. There’s no backing out of a deal with the Bellantis—and they don’t make empty threats. Not ever. They’re one of the oldest mob families in this area. Everyone is indebted to them. Everyone.
I can’t hold it in any longer, and I collapse against Charlie’s shoulder and start to sob.
“I don’t want to get married,” I wail. “And if I did, it wouldn’t be to a cold, calculating control freak like Dante Bellanti. I’ll be nothing but a trophy to him.”
Or worse. A prisoner.
My sister rocks me for a bit, until I finally calm down enough to get a few tissues and dry my eyes. Then I sink back onto the bed, still dazed and now with a fresh headache.
“Listen,” Charlie says. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. You know? You’ll be protected, and set for life, with everything you need or want. I know it’s not what you’ve always dreamed of, but it could turn out okay. Marrying into a Family isn’t the worst thing.”
If I didn’t know what Charlie’s been through, I might find her attempt at consoling me slightly infuriating. But she married a made man herself. She’s already walked a similar road.
“Our life together is relatively peaceful,” she continues.
“He heads out in his suit every morning after we have coffee together, and then sometimes he’s out of town for a few days, but for all intents and purposes he’s just another high-powered businessman who keeps long hours. I just don’t ask about his work. Ever.”
Imagining myself going through the motions like that has me breaking down all over again. I swipe at my tears, trying to catch my breath, when I hear footsteps in the hall outside.
Before I can run for the en suite, the bedroom door bursts open.
“Frankie!”
Our youngest sister Olivia, all bubbles and squeals and happiness, bounces onto the bed and wraps us both in a bear hug. Her fruity floral perfume washes over me and I remember poring over her sunny social media posts. Her sweet face, her youthful innocence.
She leans back, her pale blonde brows drawn together. “Why are you crying?”
Forcing a smile, I lie, “I’m just happy to be home.”
And just like that, there’s no doubt in my mind.
I pull her into my arms again.
Charlie runs a hand protectively down Livvie’s hair. I catch my older sister’s eyes and nod slightly, just enough that she knows. Dad was right—it has to be me. Not Livvie. I couldn’t live with myself if I let her marry Dante.
I have to do this for our family.
“Guess what else, Liv?” I almost choke but I hold it together. “I’m getting married.”